


waves crashing on distant shores of time

by Anonymous



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, San Junipero
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 15:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11107683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “So, you’re new here?” He asks, seemingly interested. Isak feels hopeful.“Uh, yeah. First night.”“First night? Why are we sitting here?” Even is already standing up, extending his arm and motioning Isak to grab his hand. “Wanna dance?”Or: A San Junipero AU.





	waves crashing on distant shores of time

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is my first time writing a chaptered fic, and of course is going to be a san junipero au (if you don't know what san junipero is, it's an episode from a tv show called black mirror). you can google what it is about at your own risk, i don't wanna spoil anything! 
> 
> just a heads up: i changed the story a little bit! it doesn't exactly follow san junipero's canon :)
> 
>  
> 
> [even's outfit](https://twitter.com/isakyakisieras/status/871460533710577664)

Isak didn't expect San Junípero to be this beautiful.

He walks aimlessly through the streets, admiring the way neon lights and glowing signs shimmer in a puddle of rainwater beside the sidewalk. It's hypnotizing, and Isak realizes he's been looking down for a little too long when someone knocks into him. It happens too fast, the girl muttering a slurred " _I'm sorry._ " and leaving Isak confused for a whole minute. She's not the first one who bumps into him, like he's invisible—which, okay, he probably looks extremely out of place; wearing beige shorts and a plain boring green sweater, considering almost everyone around him is dressed in sparkling and expensive clothes. It's not who they really are, it's who they _want_ to be. Isak _knows_. It's still no reason to practically walk through him. Composing himself, Isak overhears voices cheering and chattering from across the street, a crowd gathering around the place. 

When he finally looks up, his eyes following the source of the noise, he spots a _club_. And it’s not exactly Isak’s _thing_ , but he finds himself being drawn to it.

He ducks inside, the bass of the song playing pounding loudly and pink and blue lights flashing brightly into his eyes. Isak instantly feels even more out of place. It's almost packed, full of bodies moving against one another, to a song they probably don't even know but they go with it. Isak goes with it, too. He staggers towards the tables secluded at the back of the club, trying to find a quiet place to sit on his own. He knows he's supposed to enjoy, that's the whole point of his trip here—to do what he couldn't do before, to dance, to drink and to meet people. There's just something pushing him down, making him want to sink through the floor, and forget about his inability to have a good time. He approaches an empty booth, sitting down and blankly peeking around the place. Which, he doesn’t get to do for long because soon a brunette and short girl is walking—stumbling—up to him. 

"Hey." She says in a sultry voice, sitting down in front of him, claiming the empty seat. "Are you here alone?"

"Uh, yeah." He is, and he wants to keep it that way.

"You're so cute. You've got only a couple of hours left, right?" She leans forward, much too close for comfort. Isak wants to get out. "I could give you a really good time."

She's batting her eyelashes, looking up through them at him, smirking. And even in the dim and colored lights, Isak can't find anything attractive about it. She’s wearing a bejeweled jacket as well as glittery high heels, black pants and t-shirt toning her shimmering down. 

"Uh, yeah, sorry." He gets up, walking past her. "I'm actually here with someone." He's not.

"Okay. Good luck." 

He's really trying his best, so he doesn't immediately leave the place. Scurrying through the people at the sides, he finally reaches the bar. Isak takes a seat, not knowing exactly what to do—or order, so instead he focuses on the dancing crowd. It’s entertaining, and it keeps him occupied for a few minutes—captivated by the way they just move carelessly and easily, adapting to every new change of song. It’s all good, until a mess of blonde hair catches his eye.

Isak’s heart hammers against his ribs, feeling it right in his throat. He swallows loudly. Because that’s _him_ , that’s Even, that’s basically—in one way or another—the whole reason why he is here. And he’s just as gorgeous and breathtakingly hot as he remembers, which, is not so hard to do, considering the last time he saw him they were both this age. Isak being twenty, a mess, and still deep in the closet. Even being twenty-two and the drunken one-night stand. He just didn’t expect to find him here, in _San Junípero_ , in the exact same year as him. 

It’s not a big deal, it was a one-night stand after all. And Even doesn’t owe him anything. So he just watches him dance freely, moving from side to side gracefully, hair slicked back with a few strands of hair falling into his face. He’s not alone, a girl with short blonde hair and a pretty smile is swaying her hips to the rhythm and Even’s hands seem to be resting comfortably at her waist. Isak glances back to his face, and now focuses on his deep blue eyes and strong jaw and plump lips—they remind Isak of kisses down his neck, big hands caressing his body and eyes staring sharply at him. And how much he regrets it. By the time Isak realizes he’s been lost in his eyes for too long, Even is already looking back. 

Isak flushes bright red and turns so he’s facing the bar. The bartender looks weirdly at him.

“Do you want something?” The guy asks, raising one eyebrow. 

Isak is too busy freaking out to even process the question and think about ordering something to drink. But he doesn’t even get the chance to, because soon someone is sitting on the stool right beside him. It’s Even. 

“Jack and coke times two.” Even barges in, smiling at the barman, who smirks back.

“Oh no, mine’s just a coke.” 

“Times two.” He repeats, and then beams at him. Isak’s blush deepens. 

“I saw you with Sonja earlier.” The guy says. “What’s all that about?”

“You don’t wanna know, Eskild. She’s still insisting.” Even sighs, rolling his eyes. It’s _cute_.

“She can be very persistent and sometimes controlling, but you should probably listen to her.” He gives Even a knowing look. Even just shrugs. 

Isak is so captivated by the way the pink and purple lights frame his face he doesn’t notice Even looking back at him, sticking his hand out. 

“Even.” And oh, _oh_. Even doesn’t remember him. And it’s not disappointing, not at all. It’s just that now Isak feels stupid for even remembering his name, let alone the fact that he could recall every little detail of that night. Isak wishes it didn’t affect him that much. 

“Isak.” Now he tremblingly shakes his hand. Even squeezes it and lets it linger longer than necessary. It makes his entire body flush bright red. Being touch-starved for more than forty years is _hard_. 

“So, Isak, why the boring sweater?” Even is beaming at him, eyes crinkling. 

“I don’t know, I like it.” He replies shyly and tries to focus on a couple behind Even, desperately attempting to avoid eye-contact.

“No, don’t get me wrong. I like it too. It’s different.” Even says. And Isak smiles sheepishly. “I mean, look around, People try so hard to look how they think they should look. They probably saw it in some movie.” Isak does look around, and he has to admit he’s never been too fond of the late-80’s-fashion, they all look just so _shallow_. 

Isak looks down at his hands. “Thanks.” He mutters. And before he can worry about the awkward silence, Eskild comes back with their drinks. 

Even thanks him and then horribly winks at him, Isak just finds it endearing. He hates it, hates how weak Even makes him feel, how _infatuated_ he is already. Or _has been_ , maybe, his entire life. Infatuated with the idealized version of a boy who showed him what being real is, years ago. Time is weird. 

“Cheers.” Even says, and they clink glasses. Isak sips nervously, immediately grimacing at the taste.

“You don’t like it?” He raises both eyebrows and snickers. “Haven’t you tasted it before?” 

Isak shakes his head. “Oh, no, it’s just that I- I haven’t had it in a while.”

Even looks around, and Isak instantly feels stupid for being so _boring_. Thankfully, Even turns his attention back to him, and leans closer. Isak shivers.

“So, you’re new here?” He asks, seemingly interested. Isak feels hopeful. 

“Uh, yeah. First night.”

“First night? Why are we sitting here?” Even is already standing up, extending his arm and motioning Isak to grab his hand. “Wanna dance?”

It’s a fairly easy question. A yes or no answer. But Isak can’t even begin to fathom the idea of dancing, not to mention dancing with _Even_. 

“I can’t.” Isak looks down at his body. 

Even grabs his hand. “Of course you can. Just follow my lead.” Isak does, and lets himself be pulled towards the dance floor. 

Even is already swaying his body to the song, speeding in between the bodies also moving, until they reach the center. Isak feels extremely exposed. But Even is right in front of him, dancing and moving in just the right ways, and at some point—when Even looks him straight in the eye and he feels a weight instantly lifting off his shoulders, he follow his lead.

“Copy me.” Even mouths. 

And he gets lost in it, picking up on their dance moves and even smiling _back_ at Even, who pulls him closer and now, now Isak actually sees the depth and intensity of his eyes. It feels good, and maybe he was too optimistic, because he can’t help but notice the way people are looking at him, at _them_. Their gazes burn fiercely, making his skin crawl and his hands sweat. It makes him want to throw up and leave and stop existing altogether. It’s just a _lot_ , and not even Even swirling his hips and staring deeply at him is calming him down. So he just _flees_. 

He’s there and a second later he’s opening the back door, breathing in the cold and clean air, trying to stop hyperventilating. It’s raining, and he tries to focus on the feeling of cold water hitting his skin, but it just doesn’t feel _real_. Isak is tired of not feeling anything at all. 

He leans against the wall, and covers his face with his hands, already thinking about looking for another place to stay. But before he can _deliberately_ leave, Even is calling his name and coming up to him. 

“Isak!” He pants, and then takes a moment to catch his breath. “Why did you run away?”

Now outside, Isak notices his denim jacket is bejeweled. It somehow makes him look even more hot. 

“You know, I can’t dance.” Isak says, gaze fixed on his hands. 

“I’m sorry I pushed you into it.” He gives him a faint smile and then leans against the wall beside him. “I get impatient. Saturday nights are once a week, and they fly by so fast.”

“No, it’s- it’s not that.” Isak sighs. “Everyone was looking.”

“Looking?”

Even is frowning. God, Isak is so stupid. 

“You know, two boys dancing.” Now he looks at Even, expecting him to be laughing at his absurd reasons. But he just looks so understanding. 

“Isak, we could be in 1987, but folks here don’t care. They come from a totally different year.” He reassuringly pats his thigh. It reminds Isak of things he doesn’t want to think about. “No one’s judging.” 

Isak smiles. He ignores Even’s hand. 

“You know, midnight’s two hours away.” Even says. 

“That’s not long.” He mumbles. And Even just smirks. 

“Why waste your time sitting here?” He’s moving his hand farther up, pressing his fingers against his skin just lightly. It makes his entire body flush bright red. The fact that he’s wearing shorts is not helping. 

But his fears and worries quickly bring him back to reality. 

“I, um- Listen.” Isak stammers, and before he can say anything else, Even is removing his hand. 

“It’s okay.” He grins soothingly. 

“No, I’m-”

“Hey, really, it’s okay.” Even interrupts again. 

“I have a fiancée.” Isak finally says. Even raises one eyebrow. “Her name is Emma.”

Isak really wishes he could explain, explain what happened, how he ended up here, how he ended up with _Emma_. But Even doesn’t even remember his name. It’s probably for the best, he supposes. 

But Even doesn’t look disappointed at all. He just looks around and then back at him, smiling smugly. “And… It’s Emma here?”

“No, she’s-”

“Not here.” Even then licks his lips. “Wanna go to bed with me? We could be back at mine in like-” He snaps his fingers. 

Isak didn’t expect him to be so _blunt_. And the more he thinks about it, the more he’s actually considering just letting Even fuck him and then leave again. 

“I can’t.” Isak looks at his hands resting on his lap again. 

“Okay.”

“I just can’t.”

“I get it, Isak, don’t worry.” He grins, eyes crinkling in the cutest way. God, Isak needs to leave like right now. So he stands up straight and turns to face Even. 

“I have to go.” He goes to shake his hand. “It was nice meeting you here.” _It was nice meeting you again_.

“Okay.” Even shakes his hand gently, shooting him a puzzled look. 

And that’s the last thing Isak sees, before he’s walking away from the club in the pouring rain. He closes his eyes and soon enough, he’s in his room.

**Author's Note:**

> so, if you haven't watched san junipero you are probably gonna be REALLY confused but i'll try to explain everything so people that haven't watched it can understand too! hope you liked this short chapter. follow me on tw if you want: @isakyakisieras


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